


Sisters of a Sort

by AnAmberedBee_011



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Female Friendship, harmless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 16:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16223168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAmberedBee_011/pseuds/AnAmberedBee_011
Summary: Buffy Summers and Anita Blake should by all means hate each other.  Far too stubborn for their own good; they are where the buck stops, they are THE enforcers etc.  So what if instead they stuck together?  They can understand each other when no one else will.





	Sisters of a Sort

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://s835.photobucket.com/user/ccallahan011/media/fanart2copy.jpg.html)

  
  
  
  
I own nothing of the characters herein.  They all belong to Whedon, Laurel K. or their copyrights thereof.  Plus I wrote these in 2010 on Twisting the Hellmouth.  Enjoy some vague drabbles of female friendship?  
  
  
  
  
  
This is all from Anita's POV  
  
  


* * *

    
  
  
  
  
  
  
She understands when no one else does.  
  
She understands that while you can bring yourself to love those that love you…in the end you’re just using them. That their love is what helps you feel through the pain, through every death you’ve caused.  
  
She understands what it means to have to hide weapons under clothes well enough to still be “pretty”. That wanting to be soft once in awhile shouldn’t have to be a secret.  
  
She understands about loving stuffed animals, that having one can let you pretend to be normal for awhile. That the blank face of a squishable friend can at times be more comforting than another person.  
  
She understands what it means to understand you might have to kill the man you love.   
  
She understands what it’s like to be alone, with people who insist they can empathize; but cannot. That you are the only one who has gone through the exact situations and events, and even if the others have observed them, they cannot truly understand.  
  
She understands.  
  
Seeing her blonde head shine as she bounces in the sun, it’s easy to wave to her.  
  
Because she does understand.  
  
Laughing at the people screaming in the movies and looking over and seeing her eyes; she understands how to love the bad makeup and cheesy shower scenes of those bit rate horrors.   
  
When you just have to be alone or you just need to hurt something, she understands. It’s less of not being able to stand being around people, but of them reacting differently when they discover you have those needs.   
  
She understands the comfort in and of Death. Not the man, but the most quiet of gifts.   
  
She understands, and for that she has a place in her heart.  
  
They're not alone, neither of them, anymore.  
  
  
  
  


* * *

 

 

 

She called today.

She needs a sister.

Her mother is dead, her father has omitted her from his life, and her little brother is an innocent.

Her friends blind themselves and her men are too involved.

Sometimes you just need to be told you aren’t crazy, you aren’t a psychopath, you aren’t alone and you’re not paranoid; there really are just that many people that want you dead or under their control.

It’s that paranoia that has kept you alive.

Checking under the bed and loving your weapon.

Hearing a voice confirm what you believe in can be as comforting as a priest absolving your sins.

When you find someone who truly can understand and empathize, because they could very possibly have already or will soon experience your life, you can’t let go. 

That is why she calls.

Even when nothing is “wrong”.

When no one is in immediate danger, or celebrating something, those times are when you can soak in the words of a sister.

And so she calls once a month, or every few.

It matters little.

Every time she hears your voice you know you can make it through another season with your humanity intact.

Because you aren’t alone.

At least one other person out there has the same thoughts, similar fears. 

There’s no embarrassment or caution in these calls.

There’s only the touch of one protector to another, weathering different storms separately, never really helping each other.

But the sparse contact with each other helps retain both of their will's to endure, and to fight. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

There was another prophecy, she said. 

Her Sister called last night to say that she was going to die again.

Most likely anyway.

Anita had never feared losing Buffy before, but she did that night.

Buffy fought the darkness and won. She had beaten death before, multiple times.

There had been other prophecies along the way, and near misses Buffy blamed on her age.

Because mid-twenties was a ripe old age for a Slayer; _ancient_ even.

Isn't that just ridiculous?

But that was supposed to be before.

Before the others were called,

and before she and Anita’s worlds came together.

Anita had felt the truth in Buffy’s words when she told her of her dreams.

The dreams that condemned her _Self_   in Buffy’s eyes.

Dreams that would have been nightmares for Anita; but promised resolution for her Sister.

Her Sister no longer had a true Death wish, but the knowledge of the peace that she had denied her was never truly hidden. 

Buffy had called her one last time to let her know it was the last call.

That although she loved her; she would not fight her Death again.

And all Anita could say was-

“Where do you need me?”

 

 

 

 

 

fini

 

 

 

 

* * *


End file.
